The Wooden Figurines
by peytona05
Summary: On a weekend camping trip, Monroe falls ill, and it's up to Nick and Rosalee to nurse him back to health. Part One of my "Wooden Figurines" trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

It had been one of those rare opportunities for a long weekend, and Nick had taken advantage of it. Hank had left for Texas the night before for his brother's wedding, with plans to return Tuesday. Nick decided at the last minute to cash in a couple of his own long overdue vacation days and had shown up on Monroe's doorstep early Friday morning, wanting to know if his friend wanting to go on a four-day camping trip.

Monroe, reluctant to leave his comfort zone for that long, had somehow allowed himself to be talked into - what was it Nick called it? - "becoming one with nature."

So, after placing a sleeping bag and plenty of warm clothes alongside all of Nick's camping gear, Monroe found himself riding shotgun in the Grimm's jeep.

After driving for roughly two and a half hours, the pair finally arrived at Nick's favorite camping spot, not far from a stream and with several trees to store their food above ground. As they climbed out of the vehicle, Nick asked, "What do you say we get the car unloaded and camp set up, then we head down to the stream to fish?"

Monroe stood silently for a moment. "Fishing? As in, to _eat_ them later?"

Nick immediately realized his mistake. "Right…the whole vegan thing. Well, you could always…you know, throw them back…or maybe…I don't know, hunt for berries."

The Blutbad wasn't sure if he should feel insulted. He may have been a Wesen, but he wasn't wild. Yet Nick was suggesting that he forage for food. But one look at his friend told Monroe that he hadn't meant it like that, and he let it go.

Instead he replied, "There's enough food last a week, without me going to look for more. I'll join you at the stream. Now, about this tent - where do you want it?"

They spent the next hour and a half arranging what would be their "home" for the next four days - setting up the tent, placing their sleeping bags inside, hanging their food in the trees, and gathering wood for a fire later that afternoon.

When both Nick and Monroe were satisfied with how the site looked, the Grimm picked up his fishing pole, then looked at Monroe. "I brought an extra one. You wanna fish too?"

Monroe declined. "I said I would join you; I didn't say anything about fishing, man. Even just to throw it back, I'm not sure I could handle catching a fish. Think about it: Can you imagine having a sharp piece of metal in your lip, dragging you where you don't wanna go?"

Monroe's imagery stayed with Nick the entire time he sat by the stream, which was just as well since the fish weren't biting. He stopped for lunch, sitting with Monroe under a nearby tree.

As they munched on their sandwiches, Nick noticed two small wooden figurines laying on the ground beside Monroe. He reached over to pick them up and saw that one was a wolf and the other was a man. Despite their small stature, the detail was incredible. The wolf's eyes were fixed in an intense stare, not threatening but still very protective. The man held the same gaze, and unless Nick was mistaken, he also carried a gun and wore a badge.

"These are good," Nick commented. "Did you make them?"

"Pocketknife," came the terse reply. "While you were fishing."

Nick hesitated to ask his next question, afraid he might embarrass the Blutbad. "Are they supposed to be us?"

Monroe didn't look at Nick, but even as he shrugged, it was impossible for him to hide the smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I guess your eye for detail comes from working on those clocks of yours." Nick set the figurines on the ground next to his friend. "I'm impressed."

A few moments passed in silence. Monroe soon reached down beside him and picked up the pieces. "Nick." He handed them to the Grimm. "Keep 'em. I can make another set some other time."

Nick smiled as he tucked the small statues in his shirt pocket. "I think I've had enough fishing for one day. Why don't we do something else? You pick."

Monroe sighed. "Seriously? This whole trip was your idea, and you're gonna ask what I wanna do?"

Nick gave Monroe a mockingly frustrated look, and the Blutbad chuckled softly. "Fine…a walk. Let's go for a walk."

"Monroe, you have yourself a deal. If you'll clean this up, I'll go pack my fishing gear."

Within twenty minutes, the Blutbad and the Grimm had set out on one of the nearby trails that Nick was familiar with. Occasionally they would banter back and forth, but mostly they walked in silence, gazing at the beauty around them and enjoying one another's company.

Nick couldn't help but think about his unlikely friendship with Monroe. As Wesen and Grimm, they should've been natural enemies. Granted, they hadn't exactly gotten off on the right foot. In the beginning, they had more or less only tolerated one another. Newly aware of his abilities, Nick had gone to Monroe for information about other Wesen, but somewhere along the way the pair had stopped seeing each other as _only_ Grimm and Blutbad, and had started regarding one another as a friend. Nick trusted Monroe with his life, and though he'd never told Nick so, the Grimm knew Monroe trusted him too.

Nick's thoughts turned to the figurines that were lightly beating against his chest, and he remembered the protective expressions on their faces. A thought occurred to him: In any other world, a wolf and a man would be staring at one another, giving each other that look, protecting their own territory. But Monroe had implied that these pieces represented them. Instead of standing face to face, maybe…just maybe…they were meant to be standing back to back, protecting each other. Nick glanced at Monroe, and smiled to himself.

Monroe's thoughts were also on the wooden pieces. He'd worked on the minute details - which weren't easy, considering he had only a pocketknife to work with - and he was pleased with how well they'd turned out. He'd been humbled by Nick's appreciation for the intricacies of the figurines, and glad for the opportunity to offer Nick a token of friendship.

While Monroe had been hesitant at first about fraternizing with a Grimm, he soon realized that Nick wasn't like the ones he'd grown up hearing about. Nick was one of the good guys; he didn't go after Wesen unless he had a really good reason for it.

As these thoughts were running through his mind, Monroe reached his hand up to scratch behind his left ear, where he thought he felt a bug bite. He was surprised to discover a tick had attached itself to his neck. Knowing he needed to remove the little blood sucker without leaving the head in, Monroe asked Nick whether he'd brought a pair of tweezers along.

"They're back at camp; why?" Nick wanted to know.

"I seem to have picked up a passenger and I need to get rid of him." Monroe motioned behind his ear.

Nick took a look at the insect that had adjoined itself to the Blutbad.

"Yeah, we do need to get that thing out of there, don't we? Come on, let's head back to camp, and I'll yank him out for you."

The pair returned to their campsite, and as Nick dug through his pack in search of tweezers, Monroe began to feel nauseated. The world around him began to spin, and he lowered himself to the ground just before he faded into unconsciousness, thinking he heard himself telling Nick to call Rosalee.


	2. Chapter 2

Nick found the tweezers and was turning around to say so when he saw Monroe go down.

"Monroe…Monroe! What's wrong?" Nick asked hurriedly as he rushed to his friend's side.

Monroe's words were slurred and quiet, and Nick struggled to understand him. "Sick….Call…Rosalee." With that, he was out.

The Grimm quickly checked Monroe's pulse to make sure he was alive, and when he was satisfied that it was steady, Nick hoisted Monroe up, wrapped an arm around the Blutbad's waist, and placed one of the other man's arm around his own neck.

The fact that Monroe was unconscious didn't make the trip to Nick's jeep easier, but Nick managed to get Monroe stretched out across the back seat and strapped in. Concern for his friend overrode Nick's responsibility to clean up camp, but he made a mental note as he buckled himself in and speed-dialed Rosalee to come back once Monroe was settled in at the spice shop.

xXxXx

Nick drove as fast as he dared, returning to Portland in just under two hours. He pulled into the parking lot of Rosalee's spice shop, and seeing the sign flipped over to "closed", began banging on the door.

Rosalee!" he called. "Rosalee, open up. It's Nick."

The female Fuchsbau rushed to open the door. "Where is he? Has there been any change?"

Rosalee followed Nick to the jeep. "He's laying down in my back seat, and he's still unconscious."

"Let's get him into the back room, and I'll take a look at him."

Once Monroe was unstrapped, Nick grabbed him underneath the arms and pulled his friend out of the jeep. Rosalee wrapped her arms around Monroe's knees and helped Nick carry him inside.

They placed the Blutbad on the couch and Rosalee immediately turned his head so she could see the bite.

"He's pretty warm; must have a fever. And what's this…you left the tick in? Nick, why didn't you take it out?"

"He passed out on me…removing a tick was kind of low on my list of priorities." For the first time since leaving the campsite, Nick got a good look at Monroe's neck. The area around the tick was swollen and red, like he'd been bitten by a spider instead.

"I've never seen a tick bite like that before!" Nick exclaimed.

"Yeah, maybe not on a human," Rosalee replied. "Look, with humans, ticks suck your blood. But it's different with Wesen. Ticks carry viruses that aren't generally fatal to us, but always dangerous. A tick bite for us is a little like a spider bite for a human. I had no idea Monroe was this bad, or I would've started working on the antidote and had it ready before you got here."

"What antidote? What concoction cures this kind of thing?"

"I'll get started on that in a few minutes, but first I need to remove this tick before it injects anymore of it's toxin into Monroe's system. I need some tweezers."

Nick reached into his jean pocket and pulled out the tweezers he'd found at camp. He'd backed away from the couch to give Rosalee space to examine Monroe, but as he came close to hand over the tweezers, he watched as Monroe woged into his Wesen form and began to growl.

Nick took a step back after handing over the tweezers, and Monroe returned to his human appearance.

"What was that?" Nick inquired. "Why did he woge the way he did?"

"I don't know. Probably some sort of involuntary response to the virus running through his system," Rosalee answered. "There, the tick's out. I'm going to get started on the antidote. Go into the bathroom - it's right through there - and wet two paper towels. Put one on his forehead and the other on the bite mark."

Rosalee went into the front room to gather the ingredients she would need, leaving Nick to tend to Monroe. He did as he was asked, and after wetting two paper towels, he returned to Monroe's side.

Nick reached out to place the paper towels on Monroe, and the Blutbad immediately woged and began to growl again. Pulling back, Nick waited for his friend to relax. Monroe turned human once more, but when Nick tried a second time to do as Rosalee had requested, Monroe woged yet again.

_There's no way that's an "involuntary response" to the virus_, Nick thought.

Rosalee reentered the room as Nick was trying to carefully place the paper towels on Monroe's neck and forehead. Monroe's growling intensified the longer Nick hovered over him, though he never attacked. The moment Nick backed away, Monroe once again morphed into his human form.

"The base is simmering, and it'll take a little while for it warm to the proper temperature," Rosalee informed Nick.

"Okay." Nick glanced at Rosalee before returning his gaze to Monroe. "I don't it's the virus he's reacting to. He woges every time I get near him."

"Stay there, I want to see something." Rosalee walked over to the couch and knelt beside it. She reached out and placed her hand on Monroe's shoulder, watching for any change in his appearance. He stayed the same.

Moving away, Rosalee motioned for Nick to come closer. "Reach out to him, just like I did. I want to see what happens."

Nick did as he'd seen the Fuchsbau do. He lowered himself to the floor, but before the Grimm had a chance to stretch his hand out, Monroe woged, and though his eyes were shut, it was clear to his companions who he was growling at.

"Nick, get away from him. Now, he _is_ still unconscious, so he's not even aware he's doing it. It's also very unlikely that he'll hurt you, but I don't want to take that chance."

"Why is he doing that? What's causing it?" Nick asked.

"I…I'm not really sure," Rosalee responded. "I haven't treated that many tick bites, but I've never seen one that caused _that _reaction. It's almost like his ability to sense a Grimm has been heightened, and with the state he's in, he doesn't realize…"

"…That it's me," Nick finished for her. "All right, so what do you want me to do?"

"Since you seem to triggering Monroe's woges, it would probably be better if you left until I get the antidote in his system, which should be ready in about forty-five minutes. I'm not sure if the morphing process harms him, but it's definitely not helping him. A woge is a sort of defense mechanism, and whether Monroe is unconscious or not, right now he feels threatened every time you get near him."

Nick nodded in agreement. "Yeah…okay. Our gear is still at the site, a couple hours away. I'll go pack everything up and bring it home."

"That'll give the antidote plenty of time to get into his system and start working. Come back when you get home."

"I will." Nick looked over at Monroe. "Take care of him, Rosalee. Call me if anything changes."

Nick didn't wait for an answer. He made his way to the front door and let himself out. Before getting in the jeep, Nick leaned against his door and looked in the direction of the spice shop. He crossed his arms, remembering the wooden figurines in the process. Uncrossing his arms, Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out the pieces, focusing mostly on the wolf.

"Monroe," Nick whispered, "I wish there was a way I could fix this. I wish I knew how. But the best thing I know to do for you is to let Rosalee take care of you."

With that, Nick returned the figurines to his pocket, got inside the jeep and cranked it up, and pulled out of the parking lot.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Rosalee's concoction is loosely based on an anti-flu remedy and is NOT to be used as a treatment for tick bites.**

xXxXx

Rosalee followed Nick into the front room and watched him leave. She looked through a window and saw the Grimm lean against his jeep, pulling something out of his pocket a moment later. He stared at the object - whatever it was - briefly, then returned it to his pocket and drove away after getting in his jeep.

Rosalee's heart went out to Nick. He was worried, that much was clear. And that fact concerned her, because Nick _never_ worried about anything. He was always…in control, even when under pressure.

More than anything, Rosalee wanted to take away her friend's worry, and the best way she knew how to do that was to make a batch of the antidote as quickly as possible and get it into Monroe's system.

Going to her worktable, Rosalee saw that the base was boiling and ready for the next ingredients. She added several slices of lemon peels and two tablespoons of lavender oil to the consommé broth, and left it to brew for one half hour.

Rosalee made her way into the back room, kneeling again by the couch. She inspected Monroe's bite mark, and just as she expected, it hadn't changed at all. It was still just as red and swollen as when Nick had first brought him in.

"That's not good," Rosalee whispered. She wished there was a way to speed up the antidotal process; she was anxious to get the concoction into Monroe.

After flipping over the paper towel on the Blutbad's forehead, Rosalee took one of his hands in both of hers, laid her head on his chest, and silently prayed to whatever gods might have been listening, asking them to heal her friend.

xXxXx

For Nick, the original trip to the campsite seemed to have taken no time at all, because he'd had somebody with him that he could talk to. But now, the trip back dragged by slowly.

As Nick repacked his jeep, his thoughts were consumed with everything Rosalee had said about a tick's effect on Wesen.

_Ticks carry viruses…A bite for a Wesen is like a spider bite for a human…His ability to sense a Grimm has been heightened…He's not even aware he's doing it…A woge is a sort of defense mechanism…He feels threatened every time you get near him…I've never seen a bite that caused _that_ reaction…_

There was a part of Nick that felt guilty that Monroe had gotten sick. If he hadn't asked the Blutbad to tag along, he wouldn't have picked up that damn tick. Monroe had gotten sick on _his_ watch, and Nick wasn't okay with that. There had to be a way to make it up to him.

"I just wish I could figure out how," Nick said to himself.

xXxXx

A half hour later, Rosalee had gone back to her worktable and added some Spanish moss and a quarter teaspoon of black mustard seeds. She let the concoction sit for fifteen minutes, then ladled some into a small bowl. Rosalee soaked a wash rag in what remained in the pot, and upon returning to the back room, she replaced the paper towel on Monroe's neck with the rag.

"God, I hope this works," the Fuchsbau whispered. "All right, Monroe…open up." She gently pried open his mouth and spoon-fed him a few bites of the mixture.

The antidote was supposed to clear the infected bite mark, lower the fever, and remove the virus from the system, resulting in bringing the Wesen out of a coma. Rosalee hoped it would also keep Monroe from woging every time Nick got close to him.

Rosalee was still trying to figure that one out. In the handful of tick bites Rosalee had treated, she'd never seen a Wesen woge the way Monroe had. Then again, she'd never treated a victim that had been brought in by a Grimm. Everything she'd told Nick about Monroe's woges had only been a guess - none of it she really knew for certain.

The time passed slowly as Rosalee waited for Nick to return. Every so often she'd give Monroe a little more of the antidote and recheck the bite mark.

About nine o'clock, after rewetting the paper towel on Monroe's forehead, Rosalee once again took one of his hands in hers, and as she quietly began to speak to Monroe, tears streamed down her face.

"Monroe, you've got to wake up. Maybe for me, maybe not, but definitely for Nick. I feel like I'm still learning about his life outside the Wesen world, so I don't know that much about him, but from what I can tell, you're one of the closest friends he has, and he needs you. There's so much he still doesn't know about our world, and I'm not convinced he's ready to survive without you. If for no other reason but Nick, you've got to wake up. _Please._"

Rosalee reached up to wipe the tears away, then heard a knock at the door.

_That must be Nick; nobody else would come by so late unless it was an emergency._ She looked at Monroe. _Which, this definitely is._

Wiping away a few remaining tears, Rosalee breathed deeply as she stood and walked to the front door. She saw Nick standing on the stoop and let him in.

"How is he?" Nick asked.

"He's still out like a light, his fever hasn't broken, and his bite mark's still enflamed. As for his woges, we won't know if they're still happening until you get close to him again."

Nick followed Rosalee into the back room, where Monroe lay in the same position as when Nick had left a few hours earlier.

Rosalee placed her hand gently on the Grimm's shoulder. "Do like you did before."

He took a deep breath as he made his way across the room. Not taking his eyes off Monroe, Nick knelt beside the couch and carefully stretched his hand out. Not until he was touching Monroe's shoulder did the Blutbad woge. Nick withdrew his hand, and Monroe returned to his human form.

Nick resituated himself so that he was sitting on his haunches, leaning against the couch, and his legs pulled close to his torso. He rested his elbows on his knees and placed his head in his hands.

Moments later, Nick felt Rosalee wrap her arms awkwardly around him.

"It's going to be okay, Nick," she whispered. He didn't woge until you touched him, and he didn't growl this time. I know that's not a lot, but it's a step in the right direction. It's gonna be okay, I promise."

The Grimm and the Fuchsbau sat that way for a few minutes, allowing themselves to be comforted by each other's presence. Before long, Rosalee let Nick go.

"I need to re-soak the rag on his neck in the antidote," she said as she stood.

"Is there anything I can do?" Nick wanted to know.

Rosalee started to say no, but stopped herself when she saw the look on his face. It was a look that said he wanted - _needed _- something to do in order to keep busy.

"Sure, Nick. Come with me to the front room. You can refill the bowl I've been feeding Monroe out of, and you can give him some more of the antidote."

Nick was grateful for the chance to be useful. Spoon-feeding Monroe wasn't much of a distraction, but it gave him something to do besides feeling sorry over the situation.

Rosalee had told Nick what the ingredients were that went into making this concoction, and he was glad he didn't have to eat the stuff. As he'd ladled it into the bowl, he felt sorry for Monroe for having to eat it himself.

_It's just as well he's unconscious, so he doesn't have to remember eating it_, Nick thought.

He set the bowl down when he saw Rosalee come into the room with some blankets.

"Take one, will you? Cover him with it."

Nick did so, then took one for himself. He watched as Rosalee made herself comfortable in a chair with a blanket wrapped around her body.

As for himself, Nick lay on the floor next to the couch, facing away from it.

_Just like the figurines. So help me, nothing's getting to him tonight if I can help it._

Nick meant to tell Rosalee good night, but he fell asleep before he made sure he did.


	4. Chapter 4

Early the next morning, Nick was brought into a groggy consciousness, first by a subtle groaning, followed by something landing on his face, and finally by hearing Rosalee talk to him.

"Nick…Nick, wake up. Monroe's coming out of it; he's okay."

The Grimm slowly sat up and watched a paper towel fall to the floor. He turned to look at Monroe, whose forehead was now paper towel-less.

"Nick, I thought you wanted to go camping. Why the hell are we at Rosalee's?" the Blutbad's words came out slurred, but Nick had never been more glad to hear Monroe's voice.

"I had to bring you home. You picked up a tick, remember?"

Monroe started to sit up, but Nick talked him out of it. "Hold your horses, cowboy; you've been unconscious for more than twelve hours. You need to take it easy."

The Blutbad struggled to understand what he was being told. "Unconscious…and a…a tick? No, I don't remember that. The last thing I remember, we were taking a hike on a nature trail, and I was thinking about those wooden figurines…and then I woke up here."

Rosalee didn't know what figurines he was talking about, but she'd ask about that later. Right now she needed to examine him. She touched the back of her hand to his forehead, then lifted the rag from his neck.

"His fever's gone, and the color on his neck looks good. It looks like the antidote finally decided to kick in completely. There's just one more thing we need to check. Nick, you know what to do."

Monroe gave the Grimm an odd look as he carefully reached out to touch him. Nothing happened. Nick and Rosalee grinned at one another.

"He didn't woge!" Nick cried. "He's gonna be okay!"

"What are you talking about?" Monroe inquired, still groggy. When neither of his friends responded, he asked, "How out of it was I?"

"You were pretty out of it," Rosalee said. "Up until now, Nick couldn't touch you without you woging."

Monroe was fully awake at that revelation and looked at Nick. "Dude, I didn't…I mean…um…I didn't, you know, attack you…did I?"

Nick shook his head negatively. "Don't worry, Monroe, you didn't. You just…well, you weren't yourself, and you didn't know what you were doing. I know that. What matters is that you're out of the woods and you'll be back to normal in no time."

"I'll go warm the rest of the antidote, just to make sure the virus is completely gone," Rosalee said quietly as she picked up the empty bowl off the floor.

The guys watched her leave, then Monroe turned his attention back to Nick. "Speaking of being out of the woods, do me a favor. The next time you feel the need for some Grimm-Wesen bonding time, is it okay if I choose the place?"

Nick chuckled softly as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Monroe, you've got yourself a deal."

xXxXx

Rosalee returned to the back room with the remainder of the antidote for Monroe and was greeted by the sight of Nick laying on the floor, alongside the couch. He was filling Monroe in on the last fourteen hours or so. The guys didn't realize she was there, and she took advantage of the opportunity to watch them just be together.

"…brought you back here, and Rosalee pulled the tick out," Nick was saying. "I returned to camp to pack everything up and got back here about nine last night. Rosalee'd been feeding you some sort of Wesen concoction all afternoon, and before we went to sleep, I gave you your last dosage of the evening."

"And I really woged on you, huh?" Monroe inquired.

"For a while, I couldn't even get near you, let alone touch you, without triggering a woge."

"Dude, I don't remember any of it - nothing whatsoever. It's all just a blank," Monroe responded.

Rosalee announced her presence by clearing her throat. "And that's okay. What's important is that it's over and you're gonna be just fine. Now, humor me and pretend I'm your doctor for a little while. I want you to finish what's left of this 'Wesen concoction,' as Nick calls it, then rest for a few more hours. If you behave, I'll let you go home in time for lunch." She smiled at Nick as he grimaced at the thought of her eavesdropping on their conversation. "Here, give him this while I get the shop ready for business. I took a day off yesterday that I really couldn't afford."

Nick sat up, took the bowl, and spooned some of the antidote out. "All right, buddy. Open wide."

Monroe sneered at what he was being offered. "What the hell is in that stuff? It reeks."

The Grimm struggled to recall everything Rosalee had told him the night before. "Consommé broth…uh, lavender oil, black mustard seeds…lemon peels, and…oh, Spanish moss."

"That's what stinks. I'm not eating it," Monroe stated.

"You ate it yesterday."

"I didn't know what I was doing yesterday. You said so yourself. I'm _not_ eating it," the Blutbad insisted.

"You may not go home if you don't," Nick argued.

Monroe smiled. "Would that be so bad? I'd rather stay here and have Rosalee as my nursemaid than you any day of the week."

"Then don't eat this stuff for me; eat it for Rosalee. Come on, open up."

Monroe reluctantly agreed, but put his hand up to stop the spoon just before it entered his mouth. "Wait…you're sure that's all of it?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't think she's hiding another batch anywhere else. Now for the last time…open up the hangar for the airplane."

More than anything, Monroe wanted to be offended by Nick's attempt to get him to eat. After all, he wasn't five. But all at once, it struck him as hilarious, and he howled with laughter.

In short order, Nick joined him, and the next few minutes of laughter served the break the ice. Once the pair was finally able to settle down, Monroe took the antidote without any further argument.

xXxXx

Rosalee had left the back room and shut the door behind her, and for a while all was quiet. But suddenly she heard the guys burst into laughter and wondered what had been said or done to cause it. She stopped sweeping and just listened as her friends enjoyed each other's company.

_Friends…somehow that doesn't seem to quite cover it. When did the three of us get to be more than that?_ Rosalee wondered. _When did we become our own family?_

She didn't have an answer. Her path had somehow been crossed with both Nick's and Monroe's, whose own paths had somehow been intersected with one another's. Regardless of how or why, relationships had been formed, too strong to be broken.

The Fuchsbau resumed sweeping, unaware that the bonds that tied Nick and Monroe to each other would soon be tested, and the meaning behind those mysterious wooden figurines Monroe had mentioned would be made clear in a way that no one expected.


End file.
